Hard to believe it but I'm still happy. My new boss is one of the nicest bosses I've ever had. It's a bizarre feeling for me to go to bed on a Sunday night and not be absolutely dreading the next morning. It's like all the hell I've been through in the past five years has finally ended.

So shit, I lost my job about a month ago. A big shock to me but the guy I worked for was a bad-tempered, disgusting old asshole anyway so to not have to see that asshole ever again will certainly have its benefits.

The problem is, the last time I lost my job, I was out of work for over a year - it was truly a living hell for me. Living on employment insurance is not living - I think I was getting $750 every two weeks (if that). That kind of money would pay for my rent and my car payments and the car insurance and leave me with enough left over for a couple of boxes of Kraft Dinner every month.

What a difference it's been this time around. The day after I lost the job I was sending my resume out to anyone who would take it and Voila - a week later I got a call and had an interview scheduled. I walked into that interview as confident as ever and a week after that, I got the damn job.

On Friday, I got a nice little severance pay from my last employer deposited into my bank account and on Monday, I started my new job. I'm exhausted but loving the way things have worked out.

I forgot how much I still love Pee Wee Herman until I watched some episodes of Pee Wee's Playhouse and the movie Pee Wee's Big Adventure this weekend with Whe and her kids.

Her 5-year-old daughter and 9-year-old son seem to enjoy Pee Wee as much as Whe and I did when we were in our 20s (we've obviously always been very mature) and it was truly a joy to share something we loved 20 years ago with a whole new generation who appreciate him.

Pee Wee's charm transends decades and I still think it's tragic that such a bright career came to such a crashing end just because Paul Reubens made that stupid mistake in a movie theatre so many years ago.

A week that started with some fuctard rear-ending me, causing me back and neck pain and the loss of my car for over a week, was topped off by a bunch of terror suspects getting arrested yesterday. Their plot included bombing the CSIS headquarters in Toronto, located on Front Street near the CN Tower . My fucking office is on Front Street and I can see the CN Tower right across the street. It kind of scared the shit out of me reading about it. I gotta tell you, one of the worst ways to die, to me, would be dying at work. I can't imagine the kind of chaos a bomb going off on Front Street would cause.

Anyway I had to get xrays on Friday, and the medication my doctor prescribed for the pain seems to be exacerbating the heartburn problem I developed a few years ago when I was unemployed. Foods don't seem to bring it on that often but stress sure as hell does and I've been stressed out from work and this stupid accident. I'm sucking back Zantac's like they're candy.

I'll be getting the xray results from my doctor this week and hopefully they will show nothing unusual.

If you pour yourself a glass of wine two minutes after you get home from work, does that make you an alcoholic? If so, then count me in. To my credit, I waited until I checked the hot water tap in my kitchen. Freezing cold water poured out. Again. I immediately reached into my cupboard for a wine glass, opened the fridge, grabbed my chardonnay and filled 'er up. I haven't had hot water since last night at about 7 p.m.

Unfortunately, I'm used to this bullshit. I moved into my new apartment at the end of November and this is the fourth time the hot water isn't working.

The other three times it's happened I've thought: "Well, thank god I'm not on my period." Well guess what? The fourth time's the charm.

Last night, before bed, I was washing my hands in the bathroom sink and it was at that moment that I realized the hot water wasn't working. Figuring it probably wouldn't be working in the morning either, I put a huge pot on the stove, filled it with water, filled my electric kettle with water and hoped I wouldn't have to use them in the morning.

As soon as I woke up, I noticed I didn't hear any showers running in the whole building. I knew what I had to do. I jumped out of bed, turned on the burner, plugged in the kettle and waited while my coffee brewed.

Once the water was boiled, I dragged the huge pot into the bathroom, along with a big plastic bowl I own. I mixed it with a bit of cold water from the tap (I had lots of it!), poured it over my head and body with a plastic measuring cup and managed to condition my hair and sort of clean my body.

Standing there in my bathtub, pouring water over myself, I thought of Little House on The Prairie and how people 150 years ago had to boil water on a wood stove and put it in a huge barrel to bathe. No wonder they only took baths once a month but boy, they must have stank.

I've just started my second glass of wine, which probably isn't good, but I don't give a damn at the moment. I can't imagine having to go through the same crap tomorrow morning but it's looking like I'll have to. Wish me luck.